Page 2 of Her Wicked Knights
"That sounds really far away." She pouts again, her lower lip jutting out. "Like... forever."
"Yeah," I agree with a sigh.
She's right. It does sound really far away.
Marley sits up so fast that it pushes cold air down toward me, and I feel colder without her being so close. She holds her hand out for me, but I stare at her a minute, waiting ‘til she huffs and shakes it in front of my face to place my hand in hers. It feelsgood, like everything is right as she pulls me to my feet, but I let go of her hand and face her, waiting for whatever she wants to do. But she only holds her hand out another minute.
"Give me your pocketknife."
My eyes go wide at the demand, and I glance toward our houses to make sure no one has heard her. The pocketknife my grandfather gave me before he died is supposed to be in my dad's office until they decide I’m old enough to not cut myself on accident. They don't know I carry it with me everywhere. I like having a piece of my grandfather with me. It's been a few months since he died, and I haven't seen him since he gave me this. I consider telling her I don't have it, but she knows better. Glancing over at our houses, I see that no one is there, so I slip it out of the pocket of my shorts and give it to her.
"Be careful." I warn. "I don't want you to get hurt."
She watches me curiously before finding the button. I can't stop her before she presses it, but thankfully she keeps her fingers out of the way as the blade pops out.
I don't know what she's doing at first, but then she puts the tip of the blade against her hand.
"Stop!" I tell her, moving to take it from her before she can get cut. But she gets herself before I can stop her, and she doesn't so much as groan. I watch as the thin line of blood appears on her skin, and I hate it. I hate seeing her blood, knowing she's hurt, knowing that it makes her vulnerable. I never want her to be any of those things.
Her lips purse as she finishes, determined, and then she looks up at me. "Swear it, Tripp. Make me a blood oath."
"A blood oath?" I ask, trying to decide if she's crazy. "Are you serious?"
"Of course." She hands the knife back to me. "I don't want to marry a stranger. I want you."
I want her, too. I want her to be my best friend forever, my girlfriend, my wife. Whatever she wants, I'll give it to her. I always have.
"Okay." I nod, taking the knife in my right hand and holding it over my left palm, just the same way she did. She watches me as I draw the blade across my skin.
It stings a little, but it's not too bad, especially because her fingers wrap around the hand I cut, holding it still until I'm done. When I look from my hand to her, she's watching me. I don't ask her what for, I just let her press her hand against mine, so that the blood on my hand mixes with the blood on hers as we hold onto each other.
"If we're not both married by the time we're thirty, we'll marry each other."
I nod, which makes her smile, but her eyes are still severe when she tells me “Now you say it."
I don't have to be told twice.
"If we're not both married by the time we're thirty, we'll marry each other. I swear."
She nods, content with that promise, and lets go of me. I wipe our blood off the blade and tuck it back in my pocket.
"I feel better now." She says, and she really does sound relieved. She throws her arms around me, giving me a hug that I usually don't return.
But this time, I do. I wrap my arms around her too, and I hold her like that until her mom props open the back door and calls her home.
2
Tripp
"Shh!"Ihiss,pressinga hand over her mouth to stop the incessant giggling. I don't know why she thinks this is funny. They're gonna find us, and then she'll be it. And she'll never be able to catch any of us. I'll have to let her catch me.
Marley stills against me, but her eyes are still full of laughter when she looks up at me.
I don't know why I still hide with her, why I protect her. Maybe because she's the only girl with all of us. Maybe because the others are ruthless in their attempts to make her our scapegoat. She's an easy target, not just because she's a girl. I assume that's what makes her slower, of course— her short legs make it easy to catch up to her. But beyond that, she's compassionate. It's easy to trick her, feign a scraped knee or a bruised forearm, throw her to the ground in your place, and then push past her. I've seen Colton do it more than a few times. You'd think she'd learn better, stop trusting him, but somehow she never sees right through him... or Jake, for that matter.
A creak outside of the closet door makes me stiffen, pressing harder against her mouth as she fucking giggles.
We stay still as the person on the other side debates whether they heard something, but I can see the shoe on the other side of the closet door. They're facing us, and they're going to catch us. I move her off to the side, so that she's slightly behind me and take my hand off her mouth. She stares at me with those big brown eyes, never doubting me for a second. I don't have time to think about how good it feels, or what it means that she trusts me so much.
